Maturity is Punk: Green Day’s Nimrod Turns 25

Graphic by Lily Hartenstein

By Izzy Desmarais

Often overlooked and likely collecting dust in your dad’s oversized, black vinyl CD case, Green Day’s fifth studio album Nimrod turned 25 yesterday, October 14th. Coming to consciousness during the mid-2000s, I’ve been aware of the quintessential 90s punk rock trio for as long as I can remember. Providence local radio station WBRU played hits off their seminal album Dookie daily — “She,” “Longview,” “Welcome to Paradise,” and of course “Basket Case.” I didn’t become a big fan of the band until my freshman year of high school, but as I took a deep dive into their discography I became fond of Nimrod. It is arguably their most sonically and lyrically diverse album, presenting the themes typically found on a punk record in new, refreshing ways. 

Green Day never strays too far from the iconic sound that solidified their place in rock history. They play around within the genre in “Platypus (I Hate You)” and “Take Back,” which are more metal adjacent tracks. There is some fun instrumentation on “Walking Alone” —  frontman and lead guitarist, Billie Joe Armstrong, learned to play the harmonica just for this track — and “King for a Day” — a loud fanfare of horns heralding the song’s unapologetic drag queen narrator. “Last Ride In” is one of two completely instrumental songs that Green Day has ever released. It’s an eerie three minute interlude with a driving bass, horns, and even some marimba. However, the album opens with “Nice Guys Finish Last” — a smart move for the band, since it is the song that’s most reminiscent of their earlier work. It’s loud, it’s fast, it’s angry, and it would fit right in with either Dookie or Insomniac’s track lists. There are a handful of songs that match this classic hate anthem energy — namely “The Grouch” and “Jinx” — but what sets them apart from other songs in Green Day’s repertoire are their lyrics and storytelling quality. 

“The Grouch” takes on the perspective of a narrator that is growing old, feels wronged by everyone and everything, and is struggling to find a reason to keep going. I feel like these sentiments could relate to the band’s time spent in the punk scene — by 1997 they had already been around for nearly a decade. The chorus, “Wasted youth, and a fistful of ideas / I had a young and optimistic point of view,” suggests that this narrator was once bright eyed, shiny and excited about the opportunities life offered them. Now they have been chewed up, spat back out, and left feeling jaded. 

On the surface, “Jinx” is just another self deprecating tune. If you take a second — quite literally a second because most of these songs aren’t much longer than two minutes — and really focus on the lyrics, there’s a certain weight to them that hasn’t been present on previous albums. The second verse is especially striking with the lyrics “You finally met your nemesis / Disguised as your fatal long lost love / So kiss it goodbye until death do us part / You fell for a jinx for cryin’ out loud.” This level of self reflection where Armstrong is contextualizing his internal struggles with how they impact his loved ones. 

Self reflexivity is a major aspect of this record as many of the tracks detail struggles with alcoholism, depression, and guilt. The lead single, “Hitchin a Ride” — which implements a string arrangement in addition to the formulaic guitar, bass, and drums — is about struggling to stay sober. The chorus is playful, utilizing the old phrase “off the wagon” to illustrate their departure from discipline and is now “hitchin’ a ride” to more fun but self-destructive tendencies. These ideas are echoed in “All the Time” and “Uptight” — the latter of which suggests that suicide is likely the best option for the narrator: “Uptight, I’m a nag with a gun, yeah / All night, suicide’s last call / I’ve been uptight all night / I’m a son of a gun.” 

Two songs that speak deeply to me are “Redundant” and, one of Green Day’s most popular songs ever, “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).” I choke back tears every time I listen to “Redundant” and there was a period of time where I had to skip it, otherwise I would be a blubbering mess. Unlucky love songs aren’t a new venture for Green Day, but again, there’s gravitas that always leaves an indelible mark on me. I think it might be the chorus that does it for me:  “Now I cannot speak / I’ve lost my voice / I’m speechless and redundant ‘cause ‘I love you’s not enough / I’m lost for words.” There’s nothing particularly profound in these lyrics, I’ll admit that. I’m sure these are thoughts everyone has had in a failing relationship with someone that you still care deeply for. Except, you don’t usually get this mourning from Green Day. It’s usually something like “you don’t love me anymore so now I’m going to hate you for the rest of my life.” Armstrong sounds so hopeless in this and it absolutely kills me. 

Last, but certainly not least, “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” is often considered a sell out song by hardcore Green Day fans. This is probably because it gets played at graduations and proms and weddings and even funerals. First of all, I couldn’t disagree more about it being a sell out song. I get that it’s acoustic and definitely more appealing to a mass audience in a musical sense, but the lyrics are still very much in a punk vein. The fact that it is played at such sentimental moments baffles me. It is literally called “Good Riddance.” Armstrong is wishing nothing but the absolute worst for his ex partner in this song. How it has been so misinterpreted, I’ll never understand, but maybe that’s also what makes it an exceptionally punk anthem. Somehow, everyone has bought into believing this is a sweet song when it’s actually a fat “up yours.”  

The more I listened to Nimrod while writing this article, the less I understood its sort of middle child treatment. Green Day puts newfound maturity at the forefront of this record, exploring different avenues both musically and lyrically all while staying true to their roots. I mean, punk songs always talk about alcohol, drugs, and partying, right? But it’s usually talked about in a positive and fun way. Here, we’re looking at how damaging this behavior can be to yourself and the people around you. Even though it was written by a 25-year-old man, I would still classify Nimrod as a coming of age record. We shouldn’t be sneering at this like some worn out punk rocker who thinks they’re living out old glory days when they’re really just in the throes of addiction — we should be celebrating it. If you want to listen to a loud, upbeat record that possesses a remarkable sense of self reflexivity even 25 years after its release, give Nimrod a try.